


Intermediate Administrative Studies

by Raj_Sound



Series: Intro to Community Fanfiction [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28526931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raj_Sound/pseuds/Raj_Sound
Summary: Britta makes a new friend. Annie’s leadership is tested. Jeff's relationship is scrutinized. Abed's grip on reality is challenged. Troy's life goals are examined. Shirley discovers an inconvenient truth. Pierce gets an education.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Series: Intro to Community Fanfiction [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884427
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	1. Intro

“Welcome back Greendale,” Dean Pelton’s voice crackles through the loudspeaker, “your number three ranked community college in the greater Greendale area. A couple of quick announcements. Would the following students please report to Study Room F? Annie Edison, Britta Perry, Shirley Bennet, Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes, Pierce Hawthorne, and last but not least, Jeff Winger! Also, a quick reminder, the high today is still a sweltering eighty-five degrees, and while we can’t legally require students to wear deodorant, I think I speak for everyone when I say we would all greatly appreciate it Garrett.”

“Welcome back Britta! How was your summer?” Shirley says warmly as she enters the study room.

“Amazing. I spent a whole week chained to a redwood tree,” Britta replies. “Turns out, no one actually wanted to cut it down, but I think it got people thinking.”

“That’s nice. I guess.”

“Hi Shirley!” Annie squeals. She runs up to Shirley and pulls her into an enthusiastic hug.

“Annie! It’s good to see you.”

“Did you do anything this summer?” Britta asks. “Besides Jeff?”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Not much,” she replies as she takes her seat at the head of the table. “I took a few summer classes, applied for a few internships, reorganized the dean’s files, created a new task list for the committee, helped Troy write a resume, taught Abed how to ride a bike, trained with Jeff for the Denver Marathon, picked up a few shifts at Shirley’s Sandwiches, helped Pierce redecorate his mansion, started a youth support group for at-risk over-achievers, and unchained you from that tree. Nothing too crazy.”

“Is that all?” Shirley asks the group’s resident at-risk over-achiever.

“Don’t worry,” Troy says as he enters the room and takes his usual seat. “We tested her. She’s clean.”

“Although, we probably need to moderate Annie’s caffeine intake,” Abed adds, tailing Troy.

“What do you mean ‘tested?’” Annie asks, frowning. Neither of them reply.

“Does anyone want to know how my summer was?” Pierce asks as he enters the room. Shirley, Britta, Annie, Troy, and Abed all fail to ask.

“Pierce. How was your summer?” Jeff asks begrudgingly, entering the room shortly after the older man.

“Great! I was in a golf tournament. Nothing too prestigious, but it was semi-professional,” Pierce brags. “I would have won too, if it weren’t for that damn gopher.”

“There was a gopher?” Troy asks, suddenly interested. “I thought you said golf was boring.”

“That’s great buddy,” Jeff says, feigning interest. He already heard the golfing gopher story. “Hey you,” he says to Annie, clearly more interested in her.

“Hey you,” she replies. She tilts her head up to meet her boyfriend for a quick kiss.

“New outfit?” he asks.

“You like it?” Annie asks. She stands up to show off her new look, which consists of a fitted navy blazer, matching pencil skirt, and heels. “I was going for a more mature, professional look. Plus, I gain a few inches in these heels, which means I don’t have to stand on my tiptoes to do this.” She grins and kisses Jeff again, this time lingering.

“I like the new look. _Very_ professional. Of course, I think you look beautiful in anything, so I might be a little biased,” Jeff replies smoothly.

“Aww, thanks!”

“Although, I gotta admit, I am gonna miss your little dresses and cardigans.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t phased them out,” Annie reassures him. “I know you like them. I just thought I’d diversify my wardrobe a little.”

“Well, it’s working for you. You’ve got that whole sexy lawyer thing going for you,” Jeff says flirtatiously.

“That makes two of us,” Annie replies in kind.

Britta clears her throat with an exaggerated, _ahem._ “If you two are done eye-banging each other, I think we’d all like to get the meeting started.”

“Professional my ass,” Shirley mutters under her breath.

“Hello!” Dean Pelton says cheerfully. “And how are my favorite students slash lawyers doing?”

“Craig, you’re still not allowed at committee meetings,” Jeff says flatly.

“I know. I wasn’t trying to deansdrop or anything,” Craig says. “I just thought it would be fun and mandatory to introduce you all to the newest member of your committee.” The group looks at each other, confused by this new development. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to give a big Greendale welcome to our new administrative consultant, Francesca Dart!”

A tall, pretty, forty-something brunette in an outfit strikingly similar to Annie’s enters the room behind the Dean and takes a seat next to her in Jeff’s original chair.

“We didn’t vote in any new members,” Annie says, eyeing the woman and her professional-looking leather binder suspiciously. She looks down at her own whimsically decorated binder self-consciously.

“We’re the Greendale Seven. You can’t just add another person,” Pierce complains. “Then there’d be eight of us.”

“Greendale Eight doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Abed agrees.

“Frankie, why don't you explain what your role will be. As Jeffrey so kindly reminded me, he said, sarcastically,” he says, passive-aggressively, “I’m not allowed to attend these meetings. Have fun!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Francesca says politely, if a bit stiffly. “You may call me Ms. Dart, or Frankie, if you feel we are on a first name basis.”

“Annie Edison,” Annie says, offering her hand to Frankie, who shakes it firmly. “You can call me Annie.”

“Jeff Winger.”

“Shirley Bennet.”

“Pierce Hawthorne. You might recognize me as the former CEO of Hawthorne Wipes,” Pierce humble-brags.

“I’m afraid I do not,” Frankie replies.

“Troy Barnes.” 

“Abed Nadir.”

“And I’m Britta Perry,” Britta says, also offering her hand.

“I recognize you from somewhere,” Frankie says as she shakes Britta’s hand. “Were you in the news recently? I recall a story about an environmental activist chaining herself to a tree in a state park. Was that you?”

“Damn straight,” Britta says proudly. “Nice to know someone around here appreciates nature.”

“Okay,” Frankie replies, slightly perplexed. “I didn’t intend that as a compliment per say, but I’m happy that you’ve taken it as such. It is a pleasure to meet all of you. Let’s get started.” Annie attempts to interject, but Frankie isn’t finished talking. “Now, in terms of hierarchy, I'm a big believer in it. Someone needs to say, I'm in charge, and that person is me. That's my decision,” Frankie continues authoritatively. “That doesn't mean that we don't work together, but all communication and decisions will go through me.”

Everyone stares at Frankie like she’s nuts.

“Um, actually I’m the chairwoman of the committee,” Annie says, half-apologetically, half-indignantly. “See how I’m sitting here. At the head of the table. With a binder.”

“You can’t just barge in and act like you’re in charge,” Jeff complains. “You’re not the dean.”

“I see,” Frankie says, seemingly confused that the others refused to simply fall in line. “That complicates things. We’ll table that for now. I'll send out an email later to set up our next meeting.” With that, Frankie stands up to leave.

“Awesome,” Annie says unenthusiastically.

“Um, okay,” Shirley says, unsure.

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” Abed says.

“Coolios,” Britta adds.

“Great seeing you, Professor,” Troy says, waving half-heartedly as Frankie departs. They watch the door intently, making sure she’s well out of earshot before they talk about her behind her back.

Pierce is the first to speak. “Who in the crazy bitch?” he says indignantly, conflating two different phrases into one mangled sentence.

“Pierce, don’t say bitch,” Jeff says.

“Fine. Who in the crazy b-word?”

“Did you see her binder?” Annie asks mockingly. “Ha! Pretty nondescript.”

“Seems like she might be trouble,” Abed says, sounding worried.

“And not the fun kind of trouble,” Troy clarifies. “More like the ‘go stand in the corner and think about what you did’ kind of trouble.”

“I have enough bossy white women in my life,” Shirley complains. “I do not need another one.” Annie, one of the bossy white women, gasps indignantly. Britta, the other one, rolls her eyes. 

“We need to get ahead of this,” Abed says. “I think we should form a resistance to undermine her reign of terror.”

“Guys!” Britta interjects. “Don’t you see what’s happening? We’re doing that thing again where we’re hostile to an outsider for no good reason.” No need for them to _Todd_ Frankie. “I say we give her a chance.”

“Should we vote on it?” Jeff asks, looking around the room for consensus.

“Fine,” Annie agrees. It’s not a formal motion, but it’s close enough. “All those in favor of giving the pushy weirdo a chance?”

Only Britta raises her hand.

“The motion fails.”

* * *

_Get me some rope_

_Tie me to dream_

_Give me the hope_

_to run out of steam_

_Somebody said_

_it could be here_

_We could be roped up, tied up, dead in a year_

_I can't count the reasons I should stay_

_One by one they all just fade away_


	2. Act 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankie tries to build bridges, but ends up building walls.

If there is one word Frankie Dart would use to describe herself, it would be _efficient._ Using a single word to describe one’s self is itself efficient, if somewhat uninteresting. If Frankie had two words to describe herself, they would be _efficient_ and _uninteresting._ A third word would be excessive.

Other people would choose different and perhaps less kind words to describe her.

“Annie Edison,” Frankie says upon discovering Annie in the study room.

“Frankie Dart,” Annie replies, giving her finger guns. She assumes they’re doing a bit. After taking some time to reflect, Annie decided to deal with Frankie using her very special patented brand of intense friendliness. She used a similar approach to great success in the past with difficult teachers, angry customers, and Jeff’s mother.

“I wanted to take a moment to apologize to you for how I handled the meeting this morning,” Frankie says, sounding appropriately apologetic. Contrite, but without groveling. “It was presumptuous of me to simply come in and take charge like that.”

“It’s no problem. I know how hard it can be, starting at a new job.” Maybe Britta was right. Maybe she misjudged Frankie. “You try so hard to stand out and make a good first impression and before you know it, you’re enrolled in a clinical trial for Relaxabrex. Side effects may include giving up on your dreams,” she says, thinking back to her brief unhappy stint as a pharmaceutical rep.

“What?”

“What?” Annie shakes her head. Shouldn’t have brought it up. “Never mind. Anyway, water under the bridge,” she says, waving her hand dismissively.

“Excellent,” Frankie replies. Now that they’re past this minor misunderstanding, they can get to the point. “I took a little time to familiarize myself with the Save Greendale Committee bylaws. They're a bit inelegant, but I think we can work on that.”

Annie bristles at that comment. “I wrote those bylaws,” she says defensively.

Frankie doesn’t seem to notice. “In the interest of a smooth transition, I think you should take a few moments at the beginning of the next committee meeting to let everyone know that you’ll be stepping down as chairwoman.” Annie’s eyes widen and her nose flares. Frankie remains oblivious. “You’ll nominate me as your replacement, we’ll vote on it, and then we can get down to business.”

“Why would I do any of that?” Annie asks incredulously.

“I appreciate everything you have done thus far, but we need a responsible, capable, professional adult to steer the ship,” Frankie explains. “I mean no offense, but the fact that you are a student in your…” She pauses to consult her binder. “...fifth year at Greendale Community College tells me that you are not any of those things.”

“We solved _dozens_ of problems. We have the stars to prove it!” That sounded better in her head.

“And hundreds remain,” Frankie replies. “If I had a magic wand, I would use it to make sure Greendale never had to grow up. I would also probably use it to cut the Magic Wand class that I noticed is actually offered here, as well as VCR Repair, a class called Ladders, and When is it Okay to Shake a Baby?”

“Okay, some of the courses here are a little sketchy.”

“There is a class called Learning! With an exclamation point,” Frankie says flatly.

“But that’s outside of the scope of the committee’s authority,” Annie argues. “We plan fundraising dances and replace fake fire alarms with real ones and clean old frisbees off the cafeteria roof before it almost collapses. Those kinds of problems.”

“And now that I’m in charge, we’ll be able to solve grown-up problems, too. Look, it seems you have some control issues. I understand, respect, and can relate to that,” Frankie says, hoping a little commiseration through self-deprecation will appease her. “Please feel free to compose a short resignation speech. But do try to keep it under a minute or two. We have a lot to do.”

Annie sputters in fury. “I do _not_ have...of all the…argh!” she screams in frustration. She storms away in an angry huff, leaving a perplexed Frankie behind.

“That could have gone better,” she mutters to herself. Hopefully the others will be more reasonable.

* * *

Part of Jeff’s job includes keeping open office hours for students. Officially it’s to provide pro bono legal advice. Unofficially it’s to convince students that might be inclined to sue the school that it’s a bad idea. Technically, it’s not a conflict of interest. He looked it up and everything.

“Mr. Winger,” Frankie says, announcing her presence as she knocks on the open door

“Jeff is fine,” Jeff replies. He gestures to the empty chair in front of his desk. She takes it.

“Jeff,” Frankie says, smiling politely. “Could I have a moment of your time?”

“I suppose. What’s up?” He asks, glancing down at his phone surreptitiously.

**Annie Edison, 10:47**

**New “consultant”** _she texted, passive-aggressively_ **is an evil [witch emoji]!**

**Do not trust her!!! [angry emoji, swearing emoji, angry emoji]**

“I’m not very good at small talk, so I’ll get right to the point. I understand that you are engaged in a romantic relationship with a student. Annie Edison. Is that correct?” Frankie asks.

“Yes,” Jeff says cautiously. Their relationship is common knowledge, so there’s no point in lying to her. Also, lying is bad, according to Annie. “We’ve been together for almost a year now.” He smiles at the thought. “What, do you need me to fill out one of those relationship form things?”

“No, nothing like that,” Frankie reassured him. “That document was needlessly intrusive and wildly inappropriate.”

Jeff smirks. “Glad someone else thinks so.” 

“I just need you to terminate that relationship as soon as possible. Preferably by the end of the day.”

Jeff’s smirk vanishes. _“Excuse_ me?”

“You are Greendale faculty, Mr. Winger. It is both inappropriate and unprofessional for you to date a student.”

“I’m not a teacher. I’m certainly not Annie’s teacher,” Jeff insists.

Frankie considers this a distinction without difference. “You are an employee of this institution. The same standards apply to all employees of this institution, not just teachers.”

“My relationship with Annie predates my employment at this institution,” Jeff replies, referencing ex post facto. Britta’s not the only one that can use the Constitution as a security blanket.

“I’m afraid that isn’t relevant,” Frankie says, hoping she sounds sufficiently apologetic. “You can’t date a student and work here at the same time.”

“Fine. I quit.”

“You can’t quit.”

“Sure, I can. I’m _great_ at quitting,” Jeff says flippantly. “This is me, quitting.”

“I mean that you are under contract until the end of the semester,” Frankie clarifies.

“Well, I’m not breaking up with Annie,” Jeff says firmly. “Which means that we are at an impasse.”

“I see. I don’t mean to be indelicate, and I’m by no means an expert at romantic relationships, but don’t you think you would be better off pursuing a relationship with someone more age-appropriate?” Frankie asks. 

“You know, some, not me necessarily, but some people might interpret your remarks about pursuing someone more ‘age appropriate’ as an inappropriate advance on _your_ part,” Jeff retorts smugly, “and that by your own standards, you should probably resign.” There’s some dubious logic at work there, but he sounds confident, and sounding confident is half the battle.

“I should clarify. I have no romantic or sexual interest in you,” Frankie explains. “I was simply noting that some, not me necessarily, but some people find the prospect of a man dating a woman half his age to be both sad and creepy.”

Jeff is less insecure than he used to be, but still insecure enough to react poorly to having his insecurities thrown in his face, especially where Annie is concerned. “I’m officially done with this conversation,” he says coldly.

“But we aren’t finished talking.”

“I am.” Jeff stomps out of the office, fuming.

“This is your office,” Frankie calls out after him, bewildered.

“You can have it!”

* * *

“Abed Nadir?”

Abed sighs. “Cut,” he says to his cell phone’s camera before pressing pause on the recording. He’s only a little annoyed. Interruptions like this are an inevitability when filming on location.

“Mind if I sit here?” Frankie asks.

“Go ahead, I can reshoot,” he replies as he shoves his phone in his pocket. He expected this to happen, mainly because he received a series of texts from Jeff and Annie warning him that this would happen.

“How's everything going?” Frankie asks as she joins Abed at the table.

“I have concerns.”

“I'd like to hear them.”

Abed decides to give Frankie a chance to redeem herself, on the off-chance that she is not an evil witch and/or Nurse Ratched, but without the winning personality, which he assumes is sarcasm on Jeff’s part. “I'm worried you're not distinct enough from Annie both in terms of physicality and purpose,” Abed explains. “Also, I live with Annie and she thinks you’re evil, so that is going to be a problem for me.”

“Okay.”

“I can't determine if you have any specific flaw, quirk, or point of view that makes you a creative addition to the group.”

“I don't know what that means, but I'm writing it down.” She does indeed write it down.

“My umbrella concern is that you, as a character, represent the beginning of the end of what I call our show, which is about an unlikely found family of misfit students,” Abed continues. “Two of us have already graduated, one of us has a foot out the door and another has a foot in the grave. I’m afraid you’ll be our Scrappy Doo, the final nail in our community’s coffin. “

“All right. This is the first I've heard that I'm a character on a show. I'm excited to be one, but I’m afraid I'll be a boring one,” Frankie admits. Abed nods in agreement. “Quirks are not my strong suit, results are. I love quirky people though. I come from a big family of people who are literally insane. I moved down here to take care of one of them. Speaking of which, are you seeing a therapist?”

Abed doesn’t like where this is going. “I don’t need therapy.”

“According to your student records, you have had a number of dissociative episodes.”

Abed _really_ doesn’t like where this is going. “What you call a ‘dissociative episode’ I call a journey through a high-concept dreamscape,” he explains coolly. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t happen very often. Those episodes are always over-budget.”

“You are aware that we’re not actually on a TV show, right?” Frankie asks. She’s accustomed to dealing with people suffering from persistent delusions. Both of her parents are Young Earth Creationists.

“Viewing the world through that lens makes my life easier to navigate,” Abed says with a shrug.

“Which is something you could work on in therapy. Did you know we have a licenced therapist here on campus? His services are free to students.”

Abed shakes his head. “If you’re talking about Professor Duncan, I’m going to have to pass. He’s a terrible therapist and an even worse wizard.” Frankie is perplexed by the wizard comment. Perhaps Abed is under the impression that Professor Duncan is an aged Harry Potter. “And the fact that you’re pushing therapy is kind of a red flag. We already have a Britta. And a Shirley. And a Rachel, although she isn’t part of the group.”

“Who’s Rachel?”

“My girlfriend. People forget I have a girlfriend.”

Frankie decides to change gears. “Well, as far as what I represent about your show and its future, I like to think of myself as someone who can institute change,” she explains.

“I’m not comfortable with change.” Calling that an understatement is an understatement.

“Change doesn’t have to be bad,” Frankie insists. “Good shows change. I assume. Personally, I don't watch television and have never owned a TV.”

Abed blinks. “Say that again.”

“Change doesn’t have to…”

“Not that. The last part.”

“I don’t watch TV?” Frankie says, confused.

“That’s what I thought you said.” Abed stands up, glaring down at her with his best withering look. Like Alan Rickman in Die Hard. Or Alan Rickman in Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves. Or Alan Rickman in seven out of the eight Harry Potter movies. “Never speak to me again,” he says coldly. He walks away, leaving Frankie to piece together where she went wrong this time.

* * *

“Troy? Troy Barnes?”

Troy scowls. He was hoping to avoid a confrontation with the weird robot professor lady. Abed said she doesn’t watch TV, which is enough information to cement Troy’s opinion of her. What kind of person doesn’t watch TV? She probably reads books. For _fun._ And yeah, okay, so does Annie, but she watches TV too. She was even willing to play in the Dreamatorium with them until Abed miniaturized it to a cardboard box version that’s too small for three people.

Dumb robot lady's probably never even heard of a Dreamatorium.

“Hey Professor Dart,” Troy says, turning to face her awkwardly. They’re in the hallway, so hopefully this will be a short conversation. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m not a professor, but I can understand why you’d think that,” Frankie explains. He’s not the first student to make that mistake. “I like to think of myself as authoritative, but non-threatening. And I was actually hoping I could help you.”

“How so?” Troy asks skeptically.

“Well, I took the liberty of looking over your transcript, and I noticed that you have passing grades in all of your general education classes, all of your major core curriculum classes, and that you have enough elective hours to graduate.”

“So what? Is that like, a crime or something?” Troy asks defensively. “Do I need a lawyer? Because Jeff is my lawyer, and I’m not answering any more questions without my lawyer present. I know my rights.”

Frankie is frankly confused by this bizarre reaction to unqualified good news. “That’s not...no, that’s not what we’re doing. What I’m saying is that you’re eligible to graduate with a degree in Air Conditioner Repair,” she explains. “Which, granted, isn’t a major you see at most universities, but our AC Repair majors do have the highest career placement rates of any Greendale Community College graduates.”

“So what?”

“So you can graduate,” Frankie says, like she’s speaking to a child. 

Troy mulls it over. For like, two seconds. “I’m good. Thanks,” he says dismissively.

“I don’t understand.”

“I think I’d rather just keep doing what I’m doing, you know what I mean?” She doesn’t. “Taking classes. Learning. Being a college student. Hanging out with my friends. Doing whatever Abed wants to do. That sort of thing,” Troy explains.

“Don’t you want to start your career?” Frankie asks, confused. The average AC repair technician makes more than the average Greendale professor.

“Doing what?”

“Air conditioner repair.” She doesn't know how to make this any clearer.

Troy shrugs. “Eh. Not really.”

Frankie decides to take a different approach. “Troy, are you aware that on average students at Greendale are enrolled here for nine years?” she asks. “Granted, we have a sizable population of non-traditional students who have to balance full-time jobs and families, but that’s still an alarmingly long time. Longer than it takes to earn a medical degree. Now, we need to work together to bring down that average. Which means we need students like you, Troy, to graduate and move on with their lives.”

Troy’s eyes widen in panic. “What if I’m not ready to leave yet? What if I still don’t know what I want to do with my life? What if I’ve gotten so caught up in another man’s dreams that they’ve wrinkled my brain and I can’t think of my own?” he asks fearfully.

“I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

“You know, I was happy before talking to you. And now I’m not happy. I’m sad. And anxious. I’m _sanxious._ You’re a bad person. Leave me alone!” Troy cries.

“Is it me?” Frankie asks herself as she watches Troy retreat in tears. She discreetly sniffs herself on the off-chance that she forgot to put on deodorant this morning. She shrugs when she fails to detect an offensive odor.

Maybe it was something she said.

* * *

Although bookkeeping, inventory, payroll, and other mundane aspects of running Shirley’s Sandwiches take up the majority of her time, Shirley tries to spend a few hours working the counter. She’s the face of the business after all. Nothing sells a sandwich like a Shirley Smile.

“Welcome to Shirley’s Sandwiches. How can I help you?” she says warmly. Her smile fades as she recognizes this particular customer. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Hi,” Frankie replies. “I assume that you, Shirley Bennett, are the owner of Shirley’s Sandwiches?”

“And I assume that you’re about to crap all over it?” Shirley asks shrewdly. She received a variety of warnings from Troy, Abed, Jeff, and Annie, which did not improve her already low opinion of Frankie. Not that she’s judging her or anything. That’s the Lord’s job.

“Not at all. I just wanted to know if your business has a dispensary license.”

“A what?” Since when does a sandwich shop need a dispensary license?

“To sell marijuana,” Frankie explains. “For medical or recreational use.”

“Of course not,” Shirley snaps defensively. “Does this look like a head shop to you? Do you see any bongs or Bob Marley posters?”

Frankie looks around the store. She sees neither of those things. “No. But there is a rumor going around that some of your employees have been selling marijuana under the table. Are you familiar with the phrase ‘with a side of oregano?’” Frankie asks. She tries to wink, since each of the students she heard it from winked when they said it.

“Who would want a side of oregano?” Shirley asks. 

“Very strange, don’t you think? Almost as if it’s code for something.”

Shirley puts the pieces together. Annie would never touch drugs. Pavel is too sweet to get mixed up in anything like this. And Chang wouldn’t be that subtle. Which leaves only one option. “ _Britta,”_ she growls under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.” While she has every intention of ripping that godless hippie skank a new one, there is no reason to bring Frankie into this. This is between her and Britta. “Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention,” Shirley says artificially sweetly. “I’ll take care of it as soon as possible.”

“You’re welcome,” Frankie says with a polite nod. “Unfortunately, you’ll need to close in the meantime.”

“Do what now?” Shirley asks in her low voice, eyes narrowed.

“You should be able to reopen in two to three weeks, depending on how long it takes the campus security to complete their sweep,” Frankie says, like it’s no big deal. “Apparently a former student by the name of Alex Osborne used to cook methamphetamine on campus, so it seems there’s a bit of a drug problem around here.”

“So I’ve got to lose three weeks of revenue while you and the rent-a-cops play DEA?” Shirley demands.

Frankie blinks. “You’re upset,” she observes. “Would it help if I ordered a sandwich?”

“And just where am I supposed to make it? You just shut me down, remember?”

“Oh. Right.”

Instead of leaving, or saying something, or doing anything at all really, Frankie just stands there awkwardly while Shirley silently fumes at her.

“You should leave,” Shirley says eventually. _Before I shove your head through the sneeze guard._

“Right. Sorry again,” Frankie stammers. Shirley looks like she wants to shove her head through the sneeze guard. Which would be both painful and unsanitary. She leaves before the situation escalates further. 

_Yeah, it’s definitely me._

* * *

One of the disadvantages of no longer being a student at Greendale Community College is that there is surprisingly little to do during the day between committee meetings. Pierce has taken to spending his free time in the computer lab, checking his email, playing video games, and updating his Twitter account. @oldwhitemansays has over sixty thousand followers.

“Pierce Hawthorne, of Hawthorne Wipes, correct?” Frankie says.

Pierce turns to face her. He freezes when he realizes who it is. “Crap. Okay. Be cool. Remember what Annie and Shirley said. Don't call her a bitch or say anything about her ass or her boobs or her lady parts. Although, she does have nice boobs. I wonder if she’s single. No ring, that’s a good sign. I wonder if she has kids. She’s what, about forty? Forty-five? Probably willing to settle for a slightly older man. Assuming she’s not a lesbian. She looks like she might be a lesbian. Crap, don’t look at her boobs. She’s staring at you. Quick, say something.”

Frankie stares at him. “You said literally all of that out loud,” she replies eventually.

Piece sighs. “Crap.” Frankie shakes her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Amrywiol for beta reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Amrywiol and jeffwik for beta reading, as well as Team Discord for all their support.


End file.
